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What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 7)

Page 143

by Lexi Buchanan


  “A little, but by the time I was in college, it wasn’t the same. My sisters have their lives, and we stopped getting together as a whole group.” The rhythmic motion of our feet scrapes out a steady beat. “What about you? Is this your first holiday away from home?”

  A painful memory floods my mind. “No. I had a couple of years when training got in the way. But my mom came to me, and we had a nice time together.” If you call being rescued from hell a nice time. “This year will be my first year without seeing my mom, though. I guess that makes me a grown-up, huh?”

  “I have a feeling you had to grow up a long time ago.” Kaleb pulls me in a little tighter, and I breathe in his salty scent. I have the urge to tell him everything. But I can’t.

  “I didn’t lead the normal teenager’s life, it’s true. I never went to a prom.” I position myself in front of him and skate backward as we continue to move. I’m overcome with the desire to kiss him, but realize he’s too tall for me to do it easily. I take his hands instead. “Be my prom date and dance with me?” I put on my best coy face.

  Kaleb pulls me into a hug. His heartbeat pulses against me, and mine seems to answer. “I only know how to slow dance. Is that okay?” His voice is low, and I tingle at how it gets deeper when he speaks quietly.

  I reach a mitten-covered hand up to his face. “That’s perfect.” My lips throb, and his eyelids get heavy.

  We stop and warm hands hold my face. He leans down and whispers, “You know slow dances are just an excuse to kiss your date, right?”

  I close the distance between us. I taste a hint of chocolate as I lightly suck his lower lip. His tongue caresses mine as passion begins to simmer. The kiss is gentle and true. The kind of kiss one does in public. Pulling away, I’m struck by the sincerity of this man. I breathe deeply and sigh. “Way to catch me up on the prom thing.”

  “My pleasure.” He has a big grin on his face. He takes my arm again, and we continue on as before. “Any chance I can get you to teach me a jump?”

  “Really?” I ask. “Wait, you don’t have the hockey-boy secret desire to be an ice dancer, do you?” I snicker.

  “No, I don’t think grace is my thing. It’s the power behind it that appeals to me.” He sends me a sideways glance. “Although my sisters would say I look pretty good in sequins.”

  Chapter Nine

  Snow swishes as it slides under our skis. Kaleb and I are riding the T-bar to ski the bowl. An upside-down T made of wood, it’s attached to a retractable rope, and the top part of the T rests under our butt cheeks to drag us up the hill. It’s awkward for me, being new at this, and I fight the trepidation that threatens to overcome me. I’m a fidgety mess, unable to find a comfortable place to put my hand, and I move it up and down the center bar.

  Kaleb switched his day off to be the same as mine, and I have every intention of getting good enough that he gets to ski what he would normally. I rethink that idea now that the expanse of the bowl is visible. I say, “It looks so big.” A fresh wave of terror spreads through my body and my legs grow weak. Kaleb’s hand rubs my back, and I lean into it and hope to gain confidence by osmosis.

  “Hey, you’ve already accomplished the first hurdle. Riding the T-bar isn’t easy.” Kaleb’s voice soothes my frazzled nerves.

  “True. But we haven’t reached the top yet.” I joke, but he has a point. I wasn’t sure how I’d do after we watched two girls fall off the lift more than once.

  When we get to the trail, Kaleb sweeps an arm. “Look at all that open snow. You could literally traverse the entire bowl; make one turn and then ski all the way over to the other side until you’re at the bottom. See?”

  A ski bowl is like what the name indicates—a large hollowed-out area of a mountain covered with snow, and you ski from the top edge down to the bottom of the bowl. I scan the snow with skepticism. “Maybe. Could I also just sit and slide on my butt?”

  “I wouldn’t suggest it. You can get going pretty fast, and I think that’d be scarier than being on skis.”

  “For you, skis are an appendage. For me? They’re huge clown shoes.” I know I’m being self-depreciating, and it’s not flattering. But that’s how I deal with my fear.

  Kaleb sighs. “Okay, I think we need to talk.” He lifts his goggles and purses his lips.

  “I’m sorry. I know I think the worst.” I lift my goggles to show I’m willing to try my best and follow his instructions.

  “I’ll never take you down something you can’t handle. That’s just mean and, quite frankly, wouldn’t be much fun for either of us.” He takes off a glove and tips my chin up. Damn if my mind doesn’t focus on his lips every time he does that.

  He sees me bite my lower lip and smiles. “Hang on.” He kisses me. “Okay, now I can think clearly.” I raise my eyebrows at him in amusement as he continues. “I want you to close your eyes and imagine skiing this bowl.”

  I shut my eyes and let his deep voice settle around me. “Feel the release of your edges as you point the skis down the hill. Apply pressure to the outside ski and rotate your feet into the turn. Raise your body and then sink into the finish. Slide across the trail and prepare for the next turn.”

  His finger strokes my cheek and a delicious feeling meanders to my core. I open my eyes. He asks, “You’re already more relaxed, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.” A smile creeps onto my face. “I do know how to visualize. I’ve done it many times skating. It never occurred to me to do it to overcome fear.”

  “Weren’t you ever afraid at competition?” Kaleb pulls his glove back on.

  I answer, “Not really. I’d get nervous, but I was never afraid.” Of competing that is. But I sure knew terror.

  “All right. Are you ready to try?”

  I nod and inhale deeply. I point my skis down the hill and make my first turn. The snow surprises me. I’d heard it described as frosting, but never did I fathom what that meant. My skis cut through the snow as if it’s soft butter and carve with ease. After a few more turns, I stop.

  Kaleb stops just below me. “So?” His toothy grin tells me he knows what I think.

  “That felt great.” I take off because I want more.

  Incredibly steep, the thrill surges through my veins. I’m kind of an adrenaline junkie and used to get my fill from the crowd cheering as I performed. I think I may have found a new way to fuel that need.

  Kaleb skis next to me, and when he stops I do too. “That was incredible!” My chest heaves with exertion, and my mind screams with joy.

  “See? It looks much scarier than it is.” Kaleb’s dimples are in full force right now, and I wonder how he could’ve had as much fun as I did. I’m an insecure mess but so glad I let him coax me down.

  “I need to ski that again. And again and again.”

  Kaleb laughs at my excitement. He shakes his head and takes off. He skis at my pace, and we don’t stop until we get to the T-bar line. I slide right up to ride again.

  He asks, “Are we going to go in for lunch today?”

  “Oh, I forgot. Are you starved?” We were supposed to get something at the lodge after I braved the bowl. My stomach growls thinking about food.

  He chortles as we ski into the loading area. We both look over our shoulder for the approaching T-bar. His voice carries over the whine of the lift engine. “We should eat after this run. I heard your stomach, and I’m starving, too.” He leans into me just a little.

  “Okay. But maybe we should start packing lunch in our jackets.” Our skis make a gentle scraping noise as we’re tugged up the tracks. My poor legs are tired, and I wish this ride was a chairlift.

  “You’re sounding hard core. By the end of this season, I’ll probably struggle to keep up with you.” He leans in a little more, and I stumble a bit.

  “Careful. What did you say happens if we fall off?” I shake my head.

  He snorts. “You won’t. I would just pull you up, and we’d keep going.”

  I think he would and be successful. He’s more than a fo
ot taller than I am and at least double my weight. “Great, just like I do with kids. You could yank me up by the back of my jacket and set me on my feet.” I chuckle at the vision.

  He says, “Exactly.” I see those dimples again and think about kissing him. Our skating date ended with a heavy make-out session in his car. While no clothes were shed, hands definitely traveled to sensual places.

  I ask, “What did you learn first? Skiing or snowboarding?”

  “Skiing. My parents are skiers, and they put me on them when I was too little to have a choice. When I was about twelve, I asked for a snowboard. I rode for most of my teen years. Then in college I picked up skiing again.”

  “Which one do you like better?” We’re almost at the top, which is good because my legs ache.

  “Both.” He winks at me. “Although I think skiing is ahead these days. Besides, I ride every day teaching. This is a nice break.”

  “Maybe someday I’ll try snowboarding. Right now, I’ll focus on being able to ski the whole mountain comfortably.”

  “I think you’ll be there pretty quickly. The only thing you may never love is E-chair bumps.” We approach the unloading zone, and I slide off the T-bar. The roar of the bull wheel as it brings the cable around makes it hard to talk. Kaleb guides the T-bar slowly as the string retracts, pulling the wooden T up closer to the cable.

  “But bumps are Casey’s favorite thing. She offered to take me out. Will I hate it?” I think about the way her face glows when she talks about skiing moguls.

  “If anyone can make you love them, it’s Casey. They’re hard and take lots of practice. I’d rather go fast.”

  I don’t doubt that for a second. “Do you ever scare yourself with speed?” I ask. He’s put his pole straps on and waits while my buckles click as I make my boots tighter. Megan taught me to loosen them for lift rides to help keep my feet warm.

  “No. I don’t get out of control. But when I’m flying, it gets my blood pumping, and I feel incredible. You know?” He has a faraway look in his eyes and I get it.

  “I do know. I used to get like that when I would perform. The run we just took made me feel it, too.”

  “Well then, you need more. No?”

  “Yes.” I definitely need more skiing, and more Kaleb.

  Kaleb sits across from me by my locker and waits. He looks up from his phone. “No can do on dinner. Nobody can cover for me. Sorry.” His eyes cloud with disappointment. We had a great ski day, and I can’t imagine going to work for a few hours. My body is achy with exhaustion.

  “That’s okay. I can cook for you on your next night off. When is it?” I twirl my combination lock and hike my slipping bag up on my shoulder.

  “That would be tomorrow. I’ll get us wine and dessert.” He body checks me lightly.

  I lean in to him in response. My skin yearns for his touch. “I’m making lasagna, so how about red and something—”

  “Chocolate?” He grins.

  I smile. “Yes.” I welcome the odor of fresh air when we leave the locker room. I do a stealthy scan of the parking lot before I remember I don’t need to.

  We walk quietly to my truck. Our feet crunch ice and snow, and the sound taunts me for being speechless. At the door I turn to him. “Thank you for today. I love bowl skiing.” I step up on my tiptoes to give him a kiss good-bye. When I unlock the door, he pulls it open for me, and I climb up to turn the engine to roar.

  Kaleb steps close. “Turn this way.” He nudges my knee with a hand and steps between my legs as I scoot to the edge. His body is warm against my thighs, and my belly quivers. He wraps his arms around my waist. “Ah, this works better for us.”

  I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. Instead, I fall into his kiss. His embrace coaxes the air from my body and leaves me weak. My breasts throb with the pressure of his chest against mine, and my core begins to tingle. We break apart, and he moves down to my neck. An involuntary shiver runs down my spine. He brings a hand forward and places it just below the hollow of my neck. Fiddling with the zipper on my turtleneck, he tugs it to go a little lower.

  I make no move to stop him, and he releases it a modest point. His lips flutter at the beginning of my cleavage before he pulls back. A sexy smile spreads across my face, and I move toward his neck to return the pleasure. He groans lightly in response to my lips as they caress his skin. The smell of his musk along with his unique, ocean scent tickles my nose. I lick his salty flavor, and he shudders a little. He pulls me in tighter, and his desire presses into me. I guess he imagines mine as my stomach trembles in response.

  Breaking away, I notice his eyes. They’re dark and stormy, and I fight the urge to strip him naked. “Oh my. Tomorrow night can’t come soon enough.” There I go again, jumping his bones with my words as well as my mind.

  He laughs softly and places a palm on my cheek. Leaning into the tender gesture, I marvel at how large his hands are. He says, “I feel the same way. I’ll see you in the morning?”

  “You will.” I watch him walk to his car. I think about his delicious dark skin and decide chocolate is just what I’ll want for dessert.

  Chapter Ten

  The homey smell of garlic fills my tiny apartment as the lasagna bakes. I light candles as I wait for Kaleb. Both of us wanted a shower after a physical day of work, and he planned to get the wine and dessert on the way over. Butterflies dart around in my stomach.

  I hear a car pull into the driveway and peek out the window to make sure it’s him. I catch him checking his teeth in the visor mirror, and amusement turns my lips up in a smile. My pale pink mohair sweater is luxurious under my hands as I smooth it out, and I take a deep breath to calm my jittery nerves. I go unlock the two deadbolts and remove the chain before he gets to the door. I finish just as I hear the beat of his steps on the stairs. When he knocks, I unlock the door handle as if I’m a normal person and not someone who doesn’t feel safe without multiple locks.

  “Hey.” His eyes rake over my body making me melt like an icicle on a spring day. “You look fabulous.” He raises his eyebrows, and a rush of heat flushes my cheeks as well. I take the bottle of wine and bakery box from his hands and set them on my kitchen counter.

  “Thanks. Let me take your coat.” A dark green Henley is tight across his chest, and his biceps bulge as he removes his jacket. I inhale deeply, detect the smell that’s all his, and immediately flash to a sweatier version. His eyes dance while he watches mine move up and down his body. At this rate we might not get to dinner. I clear my throat and say, “I like that shirt.”

  He raises his eyebrows. “Right.” Then he says, “It smells delicious in here. Want me to open the wine?”

  I hand him the bottle and opener. “I hope you don’t mind if we eat right away. I’m super hungry.” For food… and him.

  “No problem here. I’m starving too.”

  Steam coats my face as I pull out the lasagna and pop in the garlic bread. I hear the wine trickle into glasses. I pull the bowl of salad greens out of the fridge and set it on the table. Kaleb hands me a glass, and I ask, “What do we have here?”

  “Valpolicella. It’s nice with garlic and tomato.” He takes a sip and holds it in his mouth for a moment before he swallows.

  “You know wine? Impressive.” I pour a small taste in my mouth. It’s deep in flavor.

  “I dated a girl that did. She taught me all I know. Take another sip and hold it in your mouth. What do you taste?”

  I let the burgundy liquid roll around my tongue. “It’s a little bit bitter, like coffee?” And me, as I think about your ex-girlfriend.

  “Excellent. What else?”

  “Hmmm.” I take another small sip and hold it to decipher the flavors. “Ahhh, I taste something a little bit fruity. Cherry?”

  “Very good. That’s it. There’s a bit of black olive undertone, too.” He drinks more and I watch his neck as he swallows. The action of his throat working makes my lips tingle. I want to find out what else that mouth can do.

 
I take another small sip. “I taste it. That’s pretty cool.”

  “So now you understand why it works with lasagna. It will also go well with the dessert.” He sits in a chair and leans back.

  “Start on the salad if you want. I think everything is ready.” I set my glass down and take out two plates. Gooey cheese pulls away in strings as I take out squares of pasta. Steam swirls when I place dinner on the table.

  Little is said as we both eat. I watch in amusement when Kaleb takes a third hefty piece of lasagna. “I think you like my cooking.” Usually I have enough to last me a week, and I’m sick of it before it’s gone. But I’ll be lucky to be able to send him home with a piece if he keeps this up.

  “I do. This is good.”

  I sip on my wine and am comfortably sated. “Would you like another piece?”

  He sits back with a sigh. “Naw, I think I’m full. Is that your mom’s recipe?”

  “My grandmother’s. My mom isn’t much of a cook. She’s a research scientist and says cooking reminds her too much of work. My dad made most of the meals when I was little. And then when he left, I did it.”

  “Divorce?” He pours himself more wine.

  “Yeah. But it didn’t affect me much. I was off training and not living at home less than a year after Dad left.” I get up to clear the table.

  “How did you do schoolwork?” Kaleb follows me with dishes.

  “Homeschool. I took most of my classes on the Internet. I graduated when I was sixteen and started on college courses.”

  “Really? A smart girl.” He nudges me away from the sink full of dishes and bubbles. “I’ll wash, you dry.”

  “Not that smart. I just knew I couldn’t be a skater forever and wanted to make sure I prepared for the future.”

  “Did you train with other kids your age?”

  “A couple. But…” We approach dangerous territory. “My coach didn’t like me to get too friendly. He was afraid I’d lose my competitive edge.”

  “That had to be lonely. Not even a best friend?” I hear water gurgle down the drain.

 

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